Thanks For Saving Me
by Next2NormalAddict
Summary: I want to tell him more; I want him to understand that I really did appreciate everything he did for me. But I just don’t have the words." Sarah's thoughs on Chuck's rescue mission. Charah obviously.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I got bored. So, here's this. (It's from Sarah's POV…in case you couldn't figure that out.) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. **

"Thanks for saving me." My voice seems weak as I force the words past my lips. "I appreciated the tank."

He opens his mouth, as if to speak, then closes it again. His cheeks are faintly pink. I can tell that he thinks I'm patronizing him. I feel my cheeks heat up. I want to tell him more; I want him to understand that I really did appreciate everything he did for me, including the tank. But now isn't the time. And, even if it was, I wouldn't know how to say it.

I don't think he understands how much it meant to me. I didn't have the words to tell him. It didn't matter if I was Sarah or Sam or Jenny or anyone else. Nobody had cared about me enough to save me like that before.

I want to go to him, run to him right now and let him know that I love him for saving me. Hell, I just want to go to him and tell him that I love him. Me, Sarah, Sam or whoever the hell I am, I love him, Chuck Bartowski, so much.

I sigh and glance over at him, standing beside Shaw. How could I ever have even looked at Shaw when he was standing next to Chuck?

I want to tell him. I want to. I really, _really_ want to.

But I just don't have the words.

I'm afraid he won't understand. Chuck's the one who talks. He's the one who rambles on about his feelings. Not me.

I listen. I never stop him. I never say, "Shut up Chuck!" and kiss him like I want to. Is it because I'm afraid? I don't know, I haven't really thought about it.

Chuck doesn't realize how brave his is compared to me. He has no idea what he's doing most of the time, but he charges into danger anyway. He isn't afraid to tell people what he feels for them. He isn't afraid to risk everything for someone he cares about.

I love him. I've loved him for a long time, more than I've ever loved anybody. But I've never told him. I want to. But I just can't.

So I let him walk away again. And I say nothing. Like always.

Later, I walk in to find my Chuck in heap against the wall, a bottle of whisky in his limp hand. There are dark circles under his eyes. He stares up at me, a lost, puppy-doggish look on his face.

I wonder if he knows how much I want to hold him and never let go every time he gives me that look.

Then I see Morgan, tied up neatly on the floor, and I know how bad things are. I barely hear Chuck's best friend as I cut him free. I ask him to leave. He does.

Chuck looks so sad. His voice is even sadder. For the first time, it isn't insistent or optimistic or sweet or even panicked. It's just kind of there.

I barely hear the words that he's saying until these come out.

"_Sarah, do you love me?" _

I can only hear the sound of my own breathing in my ears. I focus my eyes on his face. And say nothing.

He says something else. I don't hear him over my own breathing and my brain screaming at me. _Yes yes yes yes yes yes!_

I open my mouth and close it again, struggling to breath, to function, to think, to respond. God, if I could, just for once, find the right words to say…

"Yes."

And, just then, everything is absolutely perfect.

**A/N: So…that's all. I might make it a three-shot tomorrow if I don't have anything else I wanna do more… Review, please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I got nice reviews. So I wrote a second chapter. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Chuck does not belong to me. **

My lips taste like sugar-free mint ice cream and whiskey. I never thought it would be a good combination. It is, though. I run my tongue over them whenever Chuck and Shaw aren't looking.

I concentrate on strapping myself into the harness. I almost laugh when I see Chuck's face as he peers down into the elevator shaft we will soon drop into. I've felt like laughing out loud ever since Chuck and I kissed.

"You okay, Chuck?" Shaw is all business. As he looks over at me and Chuck, something flickers in his dark eyes. I think he sees that something is different between the two of us. His eyes narrow a little as he tries to figure out what it is.

Chuck stumbles nervously. "What me? Yeah, totally ready to go…" He continues to ramble on.

I try to keep the idiot grin of my face. He's just so…_cute_ sometimes. I wish I could go hug him.

"Alright." I sense the weight of Shaw's eyes on me and my small smile fades. "The Director has his own private elevator. You two are going to rappel down to it and when the director leaves grab him. I'll pull you back up." His eyes are heavy and I look quickly away, afraid I'll see something ugly in their depths.

"Cool." Chuck seems to sense it to. He leans towards me. He's taller than me. I like that I have to look up to meet his eyes.

"Do you think me knows about us?" He murmurs quietly. I shush him, knowing that now isn't the time or the place. I want to laugh out loud again, though.

He said "us." We're an "us" now.

"I'm just saying…" He mumbles, leaning back a little. I can still smell mint ice cream.

"Okay, ready?" Shaw strides up in all his Superman-ish glory. I lick my lips again, resentful. "Don't worry about the warehouse or Beckman, Chuck." He pauses and I notice that he isn't looking at me. "I trust you completely."

* * *

Chuck and I are standing at gunpoint. I want to panic. For once, I want to be the one who freaks out.

"Sorry, Chuck." I say, trying to keep the calm façade I, once again, have on. Being with Chuck made everything seem more intense. My life in danger, that was fine. But Chuck? I couldn't handle that.

Everything about being with Chuck, being near him, amps up my emotions to a ridiculous degree. I couldn't function like a spy, like I was suppose to, when he was in danger. I just wanted to shoot the dumb bastard who had come anywhere near my Chuck.

I only have a second before I hear gunshots. Shaw. I breathe a tiny sigh of relief. I really have no idea what I would have done next.

In he comes, holding that gun like he was born with it. His eyes are full of hatred, pain, rage. I want to get away from him as fast as I possibly can. As much as he might say it, the emotions that I see flickering those eyes are far from under control.

"Daniel," The Director's voice was thin and reedy. Scared. "Still upset about your wife?"

I flinch inwardly, knowing that all the pain in his eyes is mostly my fault. Chuck glances over at me for a split second. I'm afraid I'll see disgust or even disapproval in those beautiful eyes. The only thing there is concern. Concern that this might be upsetting me. I want to laugh then go and kiss him.

I don't. I watch as Shaw advances on the director.

"You should really learn to get over that or take it out on Agent Walker here. She pulled the trigger." The Director doesn't take his eyes off of Shaw. Shaw doesn't take his eyes of The Director.

I don't move. I stand there, frozen. My mind is on that Paris street. I can feel the gun in my hand. It's heavy. The night is cold. I raise the gun in slow motion, I'm moving through molasses. I can't do this, I won't do this. But I do.

"Go." I'm back in the elevator. And Shaw still has his gun pointed firmly at The Director. "Take the service elevator to the fifth floor then the north stairwell. I'll get the cipher. I'll meet you back at Castle."

"Shaw, we're not gonna leave you here." I try to reassure him. I'm his partner, after all. If there's anything I learned from John Casey, it's that you never leave your partner.

He doesn't look at me. "Sarah, go. Please." His voice is low, controlled. It scares me.

I leave. Chuck follows. We aren't ten steps from the door when I hear the shot. Shaw's an excellent shot. He wouldn't have missed. I turn and glance at the door.

"Did he…?" Chuck stops. I can see apprehension in his eyes.

I nod. We both know why he did it.

"You know, I think you're right." He says as we continue down the hallway. "I think we should probably wait to tell him about us."

In spite if all that happened in the last few minutes, I want to laugh. My lips still taste like whiskey and ice cream.

And Chuck said "us" again.

A/N: More nice reviews and I guarantee that I'll post a third chapter. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Part three! Yeah! It's a little…okay a lot longer than the other parts, but it had a lot of stuff I wanted to cover. Oh, and it's also a little darker. Try as I might I just can't make Shaw's death cheerful. Anyway. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: Chuck=Not Mine.**

When I was younger, before I was a spy, I had always wanted to see Paris. Daddy and I had conned our way through most of Europe when I was thirteen, but we had never been to Paris. It was a shame, really.

I hate Paris now. As Shaw and I exit the plane, I can see the Eiffel Tower sparkling in the distance. The night is perfect, quiet.

Chuck had wanted to see the Eiffel Tower. He'd told me about it more than once. I really wish he was here.

It's just one more mission. I keep telling myself that. I can have Chuck when I finish just one more mission.

Shaw is quiet. We didn't talk much on the flight out. I glance over at him. His face is impassive. His eyes are dark.

I pull my coat tighter. The streets are empty. Daniel insists he knows the way. He links his arm through mine. I comply, but lean a little away. I miss Chuck.

The city is vaguely familiar. I went here once with Bryce a long time ago. Then, before that for…my red test. The worst day of my life. I look at Shaw. He isn't looking at me.

I can hear the soft splash of the canals and the faint rumbling of cars. We walk to a corner. It would be unremarkable to most people. I drop Shaw's arm.

A sense of dread suddenly captures me. Then, all at once, I realize something's unmistakably wrong. I've been here before.

"Something is off." I survey the corner before looking back at my partner.

"What is it?" His voice is oddly husky. His eyes are rimmed with red.

Suddenly, I'm terrified. I can feel the gun in my hand. I can see her body turn away from me and fall onto the cold pavement.

"Why did you bring me here?" I'm angry. Angry at Shaw but mostly angry at myself for trusting him and not listening to Chuck.

"What do you mean?" His hands are in his pockets. His voice is low and filled with some emotion I don't recognize.

The gun is in my hands before I realize it. I point it at him, trying not to shake with fear. _Just one more mission_, a voice in my head says, _just one more_.

"You led me here." My voice is steady even if my body isn't. I feel numb all over. "Come on. This is where I shot her. Is this some kind of a trap?"

"Sarah…" He almost smiles as he says my name. I can't feel anything. "You killed my wife." His face becomes dark, threatening. "Did you really think that I'd be okay with that?"

I swallow, I grip the gun tighter. I feel so stupid. I feel so betrayed. "But you said that…" I hear the tears in my voice. I'm scared.

"I told you a lot of things to get you here." He's almost smiling again. I feel limp, dead. "Gun's getting heavy, isn't it?"

The world is a blur. I see the dart in my shoulder, but I can't feel it. The cold metal falls from my hand.

I close my eyes for a second. There's no Casey here to watch my back, no Chuck to save the day. I'm not surprised when I see the Ring Director. I'm not even scared. I'm just sad.

_I'm sorry Chuck._ I whisper noiselessly as they carry me away.

The night seems dimmer now, like its foggy or something. I assume that it's the drugs doing it. I listen to Shaw and the Director. They talk at me, not to me. I know I'm going to die.

Inside I'm screaming. I want to attack them, to just shoot the bastards. But I can't. Everything is all blurs and echoes. I can barely blink, let alone kill anyone.

Shaw's voice suddenly cuts through the haze like a knife. "Almost time to go."

I look past him. And, for a moment, everything is absolutely perfect. Because there's Chuck.

_My _Chuck.

I see the gun in his hand. It looks so utterly wrong there. He holds with a distaste bordering on disgust.

But the look in his eyes when he sees me slouched there, alone and helpless, is almost too much to bear. He looks simultaneously enraged and terrified. Then his eyes find Shaw. I've never seen so much hatred in my Chuck's eyes. I can barely recognize him.

I can't hear what they're saying. I can't move, I can't breath. Even without the drugs, I would be paralyzed. He came to save me. Like he always did. It didn't matter if I lived or died. This was more than I had ever expected him to do. This was more than an air strike, more than a tank.

"You're under arrest." Chuck's voice is quiet, controlled. He hates this, what he's doing. He hates the gun in his hands. I can tell. "Now stand up."

"Less smart, Chuck." Shaw's voice is just as controlled. He hates this too. He doesn't want Chuck's blood on his hands. I can tell. "You should pull the trigger, now. Kill me."

I gasp in a breath. For a second, I think he'll do it. But, he doesn't. I want to cry or laugh or scream or _some_thing. But I just sit there, motionless.

"I wouldn't do that." His voice is less controlled. I can hear his panic slipping through the cracks.

A gunshot. I register it. It must be Casey. Chuck confirms it. Shaw's voice is still controlled, still cool and emotionless. "And you've got me?"

"Stand…up." More emotion slips through the cracks. I'm afraid. Not for myself, but for my Chuck. I can't let anything happen to him.

"I guess the gun was his idea. Good."

The fight is over fast. I can't see most of it. But soon, very soon, Shaw is pulling me up onto my feet. I'm limp in his arms.

"No, Shaw, don't do this." Chuck pants. I can see his lanky figure huddled on the ground. It's blurry in my drug-induced haze. Is he hurt? I can't tell and I begin to panic. I'm not scared for myself anymore. I just want Chuck to be okay.

Shaw's voice is rough and intense beside my ear. "You can't flash, can you?" The lanky figure swims into clearer focus. I see his face, Chuck's face, contorted with fear. He's afraid for me. "Those emotions get you into trouble."

I close my eyes. I'm cold. I'm numb. I can hear Shaw's heavy breathing in my ears. His voice is still cool, even. I hate him. "Now, just stay here. I don't want to hurt you." I hear him pause, a tiny bit of regret creeping into his tone. "None of this was your fault. I haven't told them your secret. But if you follow me…I will kill you."

Part of me, most of me really, wants Chuck to run, to be safe. I just want my Chuck to be safe. But, I know he won't. He's too good, too brave. He's so much more than I could ever deserve.

"Sarah!" his voice rings out along the lonely Paris street.

I try to pull away from Shaw, to go back to my Chuck. But I can't. So we continue on through the hazy night. I hear the splashing of water growing stronger. Shaw pulls me along. I begin to cry soundlessly, tears running along my cheeks.

This isn't fair. I thought it was all done. All the lies, all the secrets, all the pain. I thought it was going to be better. Just me and my Chuck. The way it was always supposed to. I loved him. He loved me.

The water is black beneath me. "The drug will dull the pain." Shaw's voice is unruffled, calm. Like the water. "You won't feel a thing."

I try to tell him that I will. I try to tell him that separating me and Chuck now would be worse that torture. I want to make him feel some tiny piece of what I was feeling.

But I just don't have the words.

"Stop!" I can't move. I can't look to see him. But I know he's there. I can see the water. I can see the yellow glow of the city. But I can't turn to see the man I love.

"I warned you." I hear the displeasure in Shaw's voice. I fight with everything I have to turn my head. I can see him, just barely now. Chuck.

There is no distaste in his expression as he clutches the gun. Just determination. I want to call out to him. I want to stop this. But I can't.

"Please…" His voice is earnest, pleading. "It doesn't have to be like this. This isn't you Shaw. You can't do this."

I close my eyes. Chuck has talked his way into so many things using that same voice. He's turned rouge spies, captured FULCRUM agents, talked people down from the edge. I want it to work. I want Shaw to drop the gun. I want everything to go back to the way it was before.

Apparently, Shaw doesn't. "No, Chuck, _I_ can." I feel my heart begin to race, feel my blood pound in my ears. "You can't."

I hear the gun cock.

I feel my breath stop.

Then…bang, bang BANG!

And my world…

goes dark.

Everything is warm. I open my eyes. And yellow. I like yellow. Yellow is a homey, family sort of color.

I'm in a bed. I turn a little this way and then a little that way. I can move. I almost laugh. But something seems…off. Wrong. I'm worried about something. I can't remember…

I hear the familiar clack of keys. A computer. Chuck.

"Hey." The tapping stops. Suddenly, he's right beside me. His face is tired. There are dark shadows under his eyes. "How you feeling?"

I pull myself up a little. "Mmm…" The room is nice, warm. "What happened?"

He takes a breath and looks away before answering. "Everything's okay now." His voice is sad. I'm confused. Last night seems hazy, unreal. It feels like I'm trying to do a jigsaw puzzle with blank pieces.

"What about Shaw?" I know he was there last night…I can see his face…a street…something dark…cold…

Chuck's face is sad, pained. I've never seen him like this. Not once. Not even after Bryce died the second time, not after Jill betrayed him…never. I want to hug him, to make it better.

"He's dead." The words make the yellow room colder, more real. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, my God, we…" I try to sort out the hazy memories that are filtering through my mind. "There was a…there was a café and…and he tried to kill me and…" The realization of what must have happened hit me all at once. There was only one way Chuck and I could still be alive.

"Oh, my God you shot him." I force the words past my lips. I can't believe it…

"I couldn't let him hurt you, Sarah. Trust me, I did what I had to do. But I'm still the same guy. I'm still Chuck. I promise." He's rambling like always. And it suddenly occurs to me that he was afraid to tell me this. Afraid that I might not like him anymore, might not love him. It makes me want to cry. How could he think that, after all he's done for me, after all the times he's saved me, I would let this change anything?

I search for the right words. I try to think what the perfect thing to say would be. I can't think of it. But I try anyway.

"You saved me." And I kiss him, just to show him how much it meant. I might not call in a tank, but I like to think that, sometimes, I save him too.

He pulls back and smiles at me. His smile is like the sun. I'm always afraid I'll burn my eyes if I look to long. So I kiss him again. And we're really getting into it when…beep, beep, beep!

Apparently, Beckman wants us back in Burbank. Apparently, Chuck is just not having that.

"I don't…" he starts to ramble.

"Shut up and kiss me." I say it like I've always wanted to. And, it's funny, but all the sudden I really don't hate Paris anymore. Actually, I think I kind of love it. Because, for the first time, there's no missions, no covers, no codenames. There's just me and my Chuck.

And that's absolutely, _completely_ perfect.

A/N: The end! Hope you liked it! Review and stuff.


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